Tag Archives: hello kitty

Only 7 months until my birthday…

I was surprised by the positive reactions to the last post on professional victims – i was sure some emo would give me a hard time, but instead, a bunch of people who’ve been manipulated by emos stood up to say, “Oh God! I know someone like that!” A lot contacted me on Twitter too, and a number contacted me privately to check they knew who i was talking about.

The post was inspired by several professional victims i’ve had the misfortune to run into, in the last 12 months or so in particular, though i also have some i’ve known all my life, but it was amazing how many people were right on the button. Personally, I know way too many of them. I know of even more, as being emo doesn’t preclude being famous. Many celebrities love playing the victim.

But anyway, that was last week. Or the week before, i’ve had flu,  I don’t know what week it is. This week, i’ve decided the attention whores of the world have had enough attention, let’s talk about something nice. Like food. Or good sheets. Hmm. Or i could just rant about whatever’s on my mind.

We could talk about you, but that would mean you’d have to stop lurking, say what’s on your mind, and while we’re waiting, the rest of us might wander off. We’re known for it. Short spans of attention, that’s what the world has now. You’re as good as your last blog post. Most people won’t read back further, those who do earn my undying lurve.

Nothing is as flattering to us egomaniacal anarchist monarchists as reading back. I have some wonderful posts back there. Why should i be the only one who reads them? You don’t read back over your own blog? Not even to laugh at your own jokes? *gasps* And people think I’m weird. Who else do you write for, if not yourself?

Oh, i remember what i was going to do a blog post about. I missed my own blog anniversary. On the 10th March, 2010, this blog turned one. (My Twitter account also turned one, i missed that too, on 14th March 2010.) I’d been blogging on a private site for a while, and had decided i’d had enough of the emos who’d apparently taken it over.

While i was figuring out what to do, i was doing a humorous post on fascism, or trying to, and wanted a pic. I googled funny fascism, found Jenny the Bloggess and thought woo. Once i’d stopped laughing, i figured if she can do that, i don’t have to hide myself behind an adults-only firewall because i swear and discuss adult themes on occasion.

The Australian Prime Minister disagrees with me on that, he thinks Australians are too immature to cope with anything adult on the net, and he’s trying to ban me, ignoring the fact that protecting the children is only possible if their parents pitch in. Yes, that means you. Don’t shut your child into their room with a computer, unless you want to set them out as predator-meat. I’ve blogged on that before in “Toaster Sex Will Rot Your Brain“.

Anyway, we were talking about me. Remember? *looks over bifocals at you* Yes, turning fifty this year, might i remind you. You have until October 31st 2010 to buy me a present, and i suggest you all chip in and get me something from the site that sells the Hello Kitty Kalashnikovs – the Mother Teresa Rocket Launcher is always a fave.

Hey, one thing i don’t do, is sit back, simper, and hope people get me what i want. I’ve learned, it’s best to be clear, to ask outright, and to remind people – yeah, don’t sweat it, i’ll remind you in plenty of time. Mr Whatsit can’t even remember his own birthday, it would be asking for trouble to expect him to remember mine. (Seriously, he needs reminding, and never knows how old he is, we have to work it out.)

Wait… hold the presses. I’ve seen just the thing.

A Hello Kitty armoured personnel carrier – perfect for the Invasion of Queensland ’09 ’10 – we’ll put it down as “donations to the Office Chair and Tank Business Vehicle Fund” officially, as we can’t mention tanks, APC’s, and invasion costs to the Tax Office. Why Hello Kitty? Well, nobody suspects her. As the man in charge of Hello Kitty Hell says, she’s taking over the world, and nobody is noticing. Ooh – there is a Hello Kitty Gatling Gun out – if the APC is too pricey, i’ll settle for that.

According to the Accountant of Doom, invading Queensland, or even parts of New South Wales, isn’t tax deductible. War isn’t tax-deductible? What kind of country is this? And i’m not allowed to kill any more public servants, something about murder being actually illegal.

Speaking of murder, I haven’t killed anyone in The Thing lately, (my work-that-was-in-progress). I had one of those bubble of knowledge moments – where my knowledge suddenly all meshed, and i realised I’d waffled on way too much in my initial draft, to the point where whilst trying to read it over quickly, I ended up lost in my explanations.

So i am chopping out the ones that can be chopped, reducing others, and replacing some with conversations or the actual events, instead of reported ones. I’ve also realised i must have been frisky when i did the sex scenes, they’re a bit too explicit and lengthy for a fantasy sci fi epic, so they’re gone. All jolly good fun, and if i just had a Hello Kitty Kalashnikov to shoot the neighbours with, life would be sweet.

Life is pretty good, despite having flu (or some kind of virus), which i was just getting over when we found a boat. I’ve mentioned we live on a lake. One of our neighbours seemed to have acquired a boat. Before we realised it was abandoned and rang the cops about it, unfortunately some people stripped the engine off it, but what’s left, we have salvage rights on.

I told Mr Whatsit it was just like Whiskey Galore (a book then a film, released under “Tight Little Island” in the USA), but without the whiskey, obviously, and the Customs and Excise men, but he didn’t get it, not having read as many old books and watched as many old movies as i have. (He’s not fifty this year, so he gets no attention at all.)

I had to explain, it was a ship that ran aground on an island in the north of Scotland, and the islanders tried to salvage the whiskey it was carrying. You see, to our surprise, the police, instead of just checking to see if they had a stolen boat reported, told us we had salvage rights. Yes, we are like pirates.

We’ve ‘recovered the vessel’. We tied a rope to it, Mr Whatsit went all Boy Scout – he’s actually a Queen’s Scout, the highest scout you can be, and from back when scouts weren’t terribly politically correct, dressed in red tees (that’s nice for the red-headed kids, eh?), and worshipping celebrities like they do today – ffs, they’ve made Bear Grylls, notorious for faking his survival program, their Chief Scout – Mr Whatsit is disgusted.

So, with our salvage operation, Mr Whatsit tied the Tank to the boat, (ah, the joys of the sheepshank and the bowline – not just handy for fun in the bedroom), then hauled it up the beach, and we are now holding it for a while, until we’re legally allowed to dispose of it, unless the owner turns up. It had fake registration on it, so we’re quite hopeful they won’t.

Of course, standing out in the rain while Mr Whatsit backed the Tank across the foreshore, watching the ropes, checking the boat wasn’t breaking in half, all of this contributed to the bug i had last week (or maybe the week before) coming back. *coughs in pathetic fashion* It’s not that bad, really, as since i stopped smoking nicotine i don’t tend to get coughs like i used to.

Funny that. Giving up tobacco was part of my hysteria over turning 47. I couldn’t still be smoking at 47. Not when an uncle died of heart disease at 48, and they discovered he had lung cancer. He also had cirrhosis, as alcoholism runs in the family.

I stopped drinking much at all quite young, so at least my liver’s survived, (the rest of me is kinda stuffed) and astonishingly, the cardiac specialist who checked me out was so happy to find a healthy heart, i thought he was going to cry. I gather most of his patients are terminally obese, alcoholics, drug addicts, or all three.

Back to me! I’m going to turn 50, so i’m getting the hysteria over early. I mean, i like to enjoy my birthdays when they come, not be angst-ridden and crying into my beer (if i drank beer) over my age. I do like being older, by the way, us older women don’t take crap from others like too many of the younger ones do.

We’ve learned the hard way, that’s the road to unhappiness.


And at last, i’m over the bloody flu. It’s like being reborn – i’m not living on antihistamines, sinus meds, and painkillers. I have managed to clean the house, which is great, the floors were getting crunchy.

Now if i need to get my head back into The Thing. Aside from the edit, it’s been shamefully neglected, and i haven’t added much to the narrative since i crippled his mother. I pushed her off a tower. Well, i didn’t, it was the evil half-brother.

I’m thinking of doing horror for my next work, as i quite like being evil, and @RayGarton, who’s a real horror writer, and published and everything, freaked out when i showed him a topless pic of Donatella Versace, so i’m thinking it might be my future.

Donatella Versace with her clothes on

After all, if i can stand that, i can do anything.

© https://stinginthetail.wordpress.com


Camel Toe for the Beginner

What’s in the news? Drunken footballers gangbanging drunken teenage girls? The Federal Budget? *yawn* i’m so over the real world. How about Texts From Last Night? This is my new favourite site of the moment. How could one resist this conversation?

(216): Where the fuck is Rob at, he hasnt answered his phone in like 2 weeks.
(440): Dude Rob died 2 weeks ago wtf?
(216): Holy shit r u serious? How?
(440): Just kidding, but im pretty sure he boned your gf and doesnt want to talk to you.

Or this bit of poignancy.

(404): I just poured my flask into a drink. Then I realized the drink belonged to the guy next to me so I stole it from him. He confronted me and I made out with him to distract him. When I looked up, I realized his wife was watching. Its barely 10:00.

We’ve all been there. Then there’s possibly my favourite conversation:

(212): i want you now
(916): you need to stop dating girls with the same name as your mother…or stop drinking so much…I don’t want to see this

You can see why i love it. If you get bored with Texts from Last Night, on the right of their page you’ll find Flickr from Last Night. Nothing like porn and other people to put everything in perspective.

Other things making me laugh this week include the Cute Food Blog – which makes me laugh in a delighted way and go ohh! Beautiful food pictures – the gingerbread house is to die for.

Then there was the Slave Control Software site, for those who would like to be sexually controlled, but are afraid of humans or perhaps humans won’t meet them in real life.

Some people have lost the  notion that sexual roleplay is actually just roleplay. That made me laugh then stop laughing as i realised it was for real. Well, as real as automated cybersex can be.

One can go all the way in the non-human stakes. No, i don’t mean one of those blow up sex sheep (real) or a RealHamster (funny funny funny) – i’m talking Real Dolls. These are carefully crafted sexually-accurate mannequins that are supposed to look realistic. For mannequins, i suppose they do. They come in female or male with just a torso if you don’t want all that weight.

Roxanne the Real Doll - wiki image

Roxanne the Real Doll - wiki image

The funniest part about Real Dolls is how much people pay for them. They cost over $6,000 US (approx 7,600 Aussie), and up. There was a documentary years ago about the female Real Dolls and the men who buy them, dress them, and take them on picnics.

Oh yeah, and have sex with them – you can buy spare vaginas or other bits, the ones that wear first, and when you wear them a bit thin in a few places, you can send them back for refurbishment.

If you belong to a dating site, you can bet you’ll see pictures of Real Dolls on them, but they’ll be pretending to be real women. People are strange.  Sexually, people are very, very strange. Me probably heaps more than you, I’m not being judgemental.

Unless you’re the guy who (tried to find link to his site, but i can’t) had the fetish of building models of skyscrapers, about 3′ tall (one metre) and then sitting on them. Not inserting them, just crushing them under his butt like a Godzilla who needed to sit down. Ooh yeah, baby!

I’m also not stranger than you, if you’re the chick with the octopus up her i saw yesterday. It was an accident, i didn’t go looking for octopus porn. I mean, me seeing it was an accident.

It might have been an accident, I suppose, I don’t know how she got the octopus up there. Perhaps she “fell on it and it just shot up there” or something like that. It looked alive, which was a scary thought.

You get a whole new kind of follower on Twitter when you say words with porn in them, like “porn” or even “sex”. You can try not to say certain words, or put a break in them – like por n or p*rn – but marketing, media, sex, porn, tentacles, PR, and SM are all words/initials i use. Though i mean Sadism and Masochism, they mean Social Media.

I lost five followers right after the below, i’m not sure if it’s coincidence.

@BernardKeane said “Apropos of nothing, I hate Deepak Chopra. Just saying.”

I Retweeted that, and added my own touch.

lol – while we’re confessing, Tony Robbins die die die
@BernardKeane Apropos of nothing, I hate Deepak Chopra. Just saying.

Boom, five followers shed. I experimented with posting links to robot porn – among other things – and this one below, but nobody unfollowed me.

(warning – adult again) and the award for the most gratuitous camel toe pics goes to the camel toe eraser!

Camel toe’s okay, but you cannot diss Tony Robbins. There is no rhyme or reason to Twitter. Oh – camel toe? It’s when your pubic area shows bisected through your clothes. Like when jeans ride up at the front. The above link is to a place that’s giving them away for a competition. This anti-camel toe device, the Cuchini, (company motto Our Lips Are Sealed),  is a piece of i think latex that fits over your pubic area.

In extreme cases, camel toe can look like the person is being cut in half and possibly carrying watermelons in their pants. The last pic on the page is like that, plus they have a page of celebrity camel toe on the brand site – oh, and the Camel Toe Eraser is basically a shield to stop your bits being cut in half.

Some people like the flanged look – there are porn sites for camel toe aficionados – others (a majority, and yes, me too), think it’s a clothing faux pas. Like budgie-smugglers on a bloke, camel toe means having to view a stranger’s genitalia. In uncalled-for detail. Like this. (That means avert your eyes now. Well, soon.)

Budgie-smugglers are very clingy, very brief, men’s swimwear.

budgie smugglers at YourDemocracy.com

budgie smugglers at YourDemocracy.net.au - they mean real budgies, but the pic suits my purpose. Click for a story on Customs thwarting bird smugglers.

Makes it look like there’s a small bird (budgerigar) they’re smuggling. Well, occasionally a big bird, but not if they’ve been in cold water.

Before i go, something wonderful – I’ve found Hello Kitty Hell. It’s the story of a man whose wife is a Hello Kitty fan. It’s brilliant.

Hello Kitty tattoo

Hello Kitty tattoo

Now you’ve found it too. Neat, huh?

© stinginthetail.wordpress.com